


my city, my woman

by thedeadleaves



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Dates, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Making Out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 23:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9294302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadleaves/pseuds/thedeadleaves
Summary: ❝my dream wouldn't be complete without you in it.❞— the princess and the frog, 2009beautiful scenery and a breaktaking women were all zen would ever need in his lifetime.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this piece of work takes place post-zen route, wherein zen and the main character whom i have dubbed "lacey" in honor of my close friend who is a wall. 
> 
> i'm not sure if it constitutes as a drabble or just a very short oneshot between zen and the main character but here it is!

There were few things that could challenge the breathtaking panoramic of the city at night from the mountains that followed the long drive. Zen often wondered what made that spot in particular so incredible to him, what made the city so dazzling in his eyes considering that all it was skyscrapers and billions of lights that made it beacon from space. When he found himself troubled and overlooking the city, he thought of each light warming his heart and dissolving his burdens while the wind lifted them from his shoulders and cast them away into the night sky.

Time slowed down while he was there. He could indulge in the silence that cradled him closely, a simple onlooker over the hustle and bustle in the city where everything always moved too fast for his liking. He thought it was enough for him to stay like that, never uttering a word about that spot to anyone in fear of a precious thing being stolen from him. 

“This really is beautiful. you weren’t kidding.”

Lacey’s eyes were the brightest that he’d seen them that night, brimmed with childlike eagerness and awe at the distant view of the gargantuan cityscape. The miniscule details stood out to him the most: her pianist fingers clasping at the railing, her chipped nails gently scraping against the harsh metal of the bar and the subtle flush of pink on her cheeks every time Zen sent her a subtle look.

Even when darkness obscured his vision, her laughter shone through.

At one time, the cityscape before him was the only thing that could make his breathing hitch and bring clarity to the fogs in his head. Until he had Lacey to stand there next to him, eyes closed with her nose to the sky, smelling the free air, he probably would’ve thought that forever.

When he looked at Lacey, he never realized he was holding a breath nor that some of the things Lacey did were actually inconspicuous intricacies of her personality.

The way she sat on top of the railing, lithe legs swinging back and forth in the air. How she’d narrow her eyes and pout at the same time whenever he teased her about her cooking. The sound of her laughter whenever he would make botched attempts to be romantic…

Everything about Lacey was marvelous.

Lacey was so beautiful to him.

“What?” She turned to stare at him, quirking her head to the side and blinking rapidly whenever she was confused.

“Lacey…”

Her name passed through his lips so smoothly, naturally even. Everything about how he spent his time with Lacey felt right, as though the two missing pieces had come together to complete a jigsaw puzzle. Every sensation and feeling he received because of Lacey was euphoric. “I’m so grateful to you, for everything…”

The cold distance between their bodies diminished as he stepped nearer, chest nearly touching while his lithe fingers clasped over her hand and the railing. The warmth of her skin seeped into his body and the way her eyes flitted in their sockets, searching his face expectantly set his heart aflame. He loved seeing Lacey so perceptive to him. Her anticipation made the wait worthwhile.

“Whoa–” She fumbled momentarily losing her balance on the metal bar, sliding off of it to fall back into his broad chest. They had landed in an ungraceful heap of tangled limbs and warm bodies, chest to chest, her hands gripping tightly onto his flannel. Her thin hands were clenched tightly, knuckles white from the pressure that nearly tore at his shirt.

It had taken Lacey some time to finally turn attention to him, eyes sparkling like precious gems and face bright red with embarrassment.

He eased a smile onto his face and that soon turn into a hysterical bought of laughter, chest rumbling as his hands made their way from the black concrete to the small of her back and his cheeks—wiping away tears of mirth.

“You seem awfully happy at the fact that I nearly _died._ ” She grumbled, lightly hitting his chest and burying her face in it.

Zen reveled in the fact that he could witness Lacey experience this happiness and that he could be the one to bring it to Lacey. How had he gotten so lucky to meet Lacey? To fall in love and reach this degree of bliss?

Hands tangled in her frizzy hair and he took off her glasses, allowing himself to see her eyes without the lenses obscuring them. Then he buried his admittedly perfect face into the crook of her neck and mouthed the words, “I love you,” into her soft skin.

Lacey squirmed and wriggled from his grip. “S-stop that. It tickles!”

He brought his calloused hands to the back of her neck and wrapped a muscled arm around her back, effectively bringing her closer and allowing more of her warmth to seep into him. Zen exhaled from his mouth, breath turning white from the cold night and he stared at her eyes. How many lashes could he see? How many were there if he counted?

The air grew hot and foggy—atmosphere tenser and Zen could tell that Lacey felt that too when she brought her fingers up to trace his face.

Neither of them were surprised when Zen tilted her head up and gently brushed his lips against hers. It was an artist’s stroke against the canvas—he would treat it delicately at first, pressing the brush against the cloth softly, wanting to preserve its beauty until a string within him snapped. Then there was the primal urge to make it _his._ He pressed his lips against hers harder, kissing with a renewed sense of ferocity. She gasped and he slid his eyes shut, wanting to just focus on the feeling of her.

Head tilted back as his fingers supported her nape and his lips descended onto hers, Lacey recovered from her shock and pushed back harder into the kiss, tearing her hand from his chest to thread her fingers through his hair. He stifled a laugh in his throat as they knocked noses awkwardly and she got her fingers stuck in his hair, instead choosing to cherish the moment as she pulled away, looking utterly debauched.

He never wanted it to end.

“Oh my god. Did you bite my lips?” She asked as she tasted a bit of blood in her mouth.

 


End file.
